


Support

by CraveyQueen1



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, Group Therapy, OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Support Group, Trichophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraveyQueen1/pseuds/CraveyQueen1





	Support

The elevator slid its way down to the community center basement. As the doors opened, Crutchie was hit by the smell of fabric softener and cheese. He stepped into the multipurpose room and saw a group of other teens sitting around a big wooden table. They were talking or messing with their phones and one boy was staring at the wall.  
Crutchie went over to the table till he froze on the spot.  
A girl with patches of hair missing sat on the opposite side of the table talking with a boy. She wore a nametag that read: Ruby (She). She looked up and smiled at Crutchie like she'd been expecting him. He smiled back, feeling a little better.  
He took a seat beside a boy dressed in all green, who was tapping his knee with two fingers every few seconds. His nametag read: Jamal, He. Jamal looked up from his phone. "Hey." He went back to his screen.  
"Hey."  
"You like video games?" Jamal asked.  
"Yeah."  
"You try the Four Days at Frank's app?"  
Crutchie felt his neck heating up, he'd had this conversation too many times. "No."  
"You wanna see?" Jamal held the phone out. "The graphics are -"  
Crutchie flinched. "No thanks. I don't... animatronics..."  
The guy pulled the phone back. "Oh, sorry man." Crutchie waited for him to push further. "...I can't watch Quest Hour because I don't like stuff that stretches weird, so like, I get it." Jamal wiped his nose on his sleeve before tapping his knee again.  
"Yeah?" Crutchie couldn't believe anyone other than him would say something like that.  
Jamal shrugged. "Yeah."  
The dead weight was pulled off Crutchie's chest.  
He smiled to himself till a middle aged woman in a vest embroidered with little moons and stars came in. She sat at the head of the table and cleared her throat. Everyone stopped what they were doing. "Welcome back, I hope everyone had a good holiday. We have a new member here today.” She looked up at Crutchie.  
“Hi.”  
“Hello, I’m Ms. Harper. Why don’t you introduce yourself with your name, pronouns and a fun fact about yourself? Then write the first two on a nametag, please.” She reached into her bag, pulled out a blank clip on name tag and marker and slid them to Crutchie across the table.  
Crutchie caught them before the marker hit Jamal and the name tag landed in his lap. “I’m Charlie, but my friends call me Crutchie, I guess. He and stuff, and….I’m allergic to dairy?”  
“Nice to meet you. How about everyone go around and say their name.”  
Crutchie filled out his name tag and clipped it on while everyone introduced themselves.  
“Great!” said Miss Harper, “Now, Crutchie, is this the first time you’ve been to group therapy?”  
“Yes.”  
“What got you to decide to join us?”  
“My counselor,” said Crutchie, as all eyes at the table were on him, except Jaime, who was still looking at the wall “and my mom, thought it was a good idea.”  
“Did they tell you why?”  
Crutchie gave the group another scan. “I don’t know anybody, who has- this.”  
“You mean, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?”  
“Yeah.”  
“How does that make you feel?”  
Crutchie noted to tell Mush about the cliched question later. But he thought about it. “I don’t know, weird, or not weird, but, surprised. I didn’t think I was the kind to have it.”  
The room filled with knowing nods.  
“You would not believe how many people I’ve heard express the same sentiment,” said Ms. Harper, “I still think it myself sometimes.”  
Crutchie realized he’d been squeezing his one hand with the other and let it go. “Cool.”  
“Well Crutchie, sometimes we share some of our obsessions with the group to look at what it is we're working with. Something small that won’t be too distressing to share. Does anyone have an example?”  
Ruby raised her hand. “I get worried vinegar is going to burn me. I mean I know it won’t, and I can touch it if I have to, but it still freaks me out.”  
“Thank you, Ruby.” Ms. Harper turned back to Crutchie. “No one ever has to talk here if they don’t want to, but if there’s something you have to share, I’d encourage it.”  
Crutchie ran through a lot of options. Everything he could think of seemed too weird to share. He picked something that would at least not make people think he was dangerous. “It’s weird, but, sometimes I’m worried when I put away dishes that I’ll drop them and they’ll shatter and I’ll have to replace them and maybe they’ll cut me or I don’t know, something else bad will happen.” He waited for someone to tell him how ridiculous he was being.  
“Yeah,” said Jaime, “I have that.”  
Crutchie wanted to hug him.


End file.
